kissing and massaging gently. His hands moved over her body delicately, rivers of fire following in their wake. His mouth traveled as well, to each beautifully formed and slightly fuller breast, down her abdomen, dipping into her navel, and in all ways driving her mad with desire.
As he worshipped her body, awakening and spiraling her passionate lust, his heart remembered the agony of almost losing her. It was still so real to him, the torture of those days. Fear continued to clutch his soul and his thankfulness to God for returning her to him was overwhelming. His need to love her, please her, touch her, and unite with her as can only be accomplished through the act of lovemaking drove him to astounding heights of arousal.
As tremendous as his urgency to be joined with her, his thirst to taste and touch and smell every inch of her flesh impelled him to proceed slowly. In consequence, Lizzy had never been so stimulated. Always she was satisfied in their lovemaking, stunned at the intensity of the glorious sensations that throbbed through her body when he masterfully coaxed her to rapture. Perhaps it was the long absence of his touch; perhaps it was the prolonged foreplay, or more likely a combination of both. Whatever the case, she was feverish in her craving for him.
“Fitzwilliam,” she sighed in a tone of elation, “I missed you so! I love you… I love you… I love you…” Almost sobbing, she captured his lips in a crushing kiss, and with a deep groan he finally merged with her.
Darcy clenched her firmly against his chest with one arm under her neck and gripping her shoulder, while the other ceaselessly rubbed over her backside. He moaned breathlessly, exalting in the heady aroma of her hair so near his face and her skin as velvet under his hands.
“My love!” he rasped huskily. “Lord, how I wanted you. I need you, my Elizabeth, my precious wife. God… please… do not ever leave me… I cannot live… Beloved!” He pulled her away from his neck and deliriously engulfed her mouth, drowning in her taste, receiving nourishment from her breath. Their respirations came in ragged gasps. Lizzy’s nails dug into his flesh with rapacious need.
They rolled and danced in intimate communication, giving as well as receiving, the unimaginable sensations quivering throughout each nerve and cell. When they slipped blissfully over the threshold of rhapsody, the spasms and flutters buffeted over them stupendously, transporting their souls to a place of intense indescribable oneness.
Their eyes met, lips touching as hot breath commingled, and they merged in profound love and belonging. “I love you,” they whispered in one accord, “I love you, I love you…” without end, kissing tenderly as their passion crested, cascaded in a prolonged wave, and ebbed slowly. Even after their tremors had ceased, Darcy continued to move within her body, holding her tightly for a long while before finally rotating onto his back with Elizabeth enveloped in his arms.
Darcy sheltered her with a strong embrace, the emotions of the past weeks threatening to overwhelm him as tears welled. Inhaling deeply and kissing the top of her head to avoid bursting into sobs, he squeezed her so tenaciously that she released a small squeak.
“William, I cannot breathe!” she laughed, lifting to look at him. “My love,” smoothing his brow, “Are you alright?”
Smiling, he replied, “Yes, beloved, simply overcome with my emotions. I adore you so, Elizabeth, and shudder yet at how close I came to losing you. It haunts me still. I trust you will understand if I cling overly in the weeks to come.” His attempt at levity brought a smile to her lips.
“I imagine I can tolerate your presence if I must,” she teased, kissing his chest, laying her head over his pounding heart, and hugging firmly.
Contentment, relief, and joy so intensely swathed him that he fell into a doze, his perfect wife stretched on top of him. Her warmth soothed his residual fears.
They had every intention, initially, of joining their family for dinner, but time slipped away in the pleasure of their renewed love. It was well past the dinner hour before either of them felt any sensation other than sheer ecstasy. A tray was called for eventually; both of them needed their strength and Darcy especially worried as, he pointed out smugly, their child needed nourishment. As far as he was concerned, it was a fact and Lizzy was far too joyous to worry over his grief if she was found not to be with child. Besides, she had been convinced for the past week.
As the full moon touched the Peaks with glints of pale light, Lizzy lay gloriously contented in her sleep with her bare backside pressed firmly against Darcy’s chest and abdomen, legs entwined, while he embraced her and tickled her neck with his exhalations.
She dreamed.
Like many dreams, hers flowed from page to page without any true coherency. In one scene she was hugely pregnant and her husband was helping her up the stairs while laughing at her waddling gait. Then she was at their wedding, gazing into his sparkling blue eyes as she recited her vows. Next it was Christmas and Darcy was playing the violin as they all listened in amazement. In another, she sat with Harriet, Chloe, Marilyn, and Amelia with at least two dozen children of all ages climbing over the furniture, running amok, giggling, and screaming as their mothers placidly sipped their tea.
Suddenly the pages began to turn in a sequence that struck a chord of disquiet. She was storming shamefully into her husband’s study. She lay on a cold lonely bed sobbing and ill. Darcy was riding Parsifal briskly down the drive as he turned and smiled at her, warming her heart. She strolled down the avenue, humming in the bright sunlight with a bucket in her hand. She was lifting her welcoming face to an approaching carriage, freezing in terror upon spying the leering face of the Marquis of Orman.
With a scream she struggled out of Darcy’s grip, applying a twisting pressure to her ankle, as she jolted up in bed. “William!” she sobbed, grabbing her pounding head, the pages of her memory flipping rapidly, as she bent over her lap moaning.
“Elizabeth, beloved, I am here! Shhh…” She was in his arms, trembling and gulping for air. “It is merely a dream, my love. Lizzy, look at me,” he grasped her chin and she peered at him with glazed eyes, “All is well, dearest, relax on my chest. Breathe slowly. Shhhh. I am here, love, I am here…” He continued to murmur soothing words interspersed with tender kisses as he rocked gently until she calmed. He reclined her onto the pillow, one arm about her as he stroked her cheek and hair.
Her eyes were distant and staring and filled with pain. He could not be certain she was fully awake, so he maintained his calming caresses and mollifying professions until her eyes unclouded and she focused on his face. She shivered still, anguish in her expression when she spoke.
“I remember, William. I recall what happened to me.”
“You do? Are you sure, beloved, that you were not dreaming?”
“No, no! I can see it and feel it… I remember running and falling and… the turkey…” she was panting and clutching his arms roughly. Darcy was seriously alarmed at her agitation and tried to console her to no avail. She was frantic. He attempted to move away, intent on mixing laudanum to ease her suffering and distress, but she grasped him tighter. “It was him!”
“Who?”
“Orman! He encountered me on the road and… grabbed me… and tried to… Oh, William! I was so frightened! I hit him and ran. It was so foolish of me and I was so cruel to you before and I have caused you such torment and I may have harmed our baby and…” She was sobbing and hysterical. Darcy was stunned, furious, and despondent.
At the first hint of dawn, Darcy slipped out of bed. He sought out Marguerite, informing her that the Mistress had suffered a nightmare requiring a liberal dose of sedative. He instructed Lizzy’s maid to stay with her and notify him the instant she roused. He dressed quickly and marched straight to his cousin’s door. Richard was ill pleased to be woken so early but quickly overcame his irritation when he heard Darcy’s information.
Darcy paced as he spoke, a robed Richard sitting in a chair with an increasingly grim cast to his mien. “She said he grabbed her?” he repeated in shock, “and tried… what do you think?”
“I do not know! Nor does it matter, Richard! He has accosted her, twice now, and she almost died! I insist on justice!”
